


In A Heartbeat

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Crushing, Get Together, In A Heartbeat animated short interpretation, M/M, Mild Language, Pining, Viktor and Yurio are brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 22:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is the crown prince of Grand Prix High School and has everything he wants except one:Yuuri Katsuki





	In A Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> A Yuri!!! On Ice interpretation of [In A Heartbeat](https://youtu.be/2REkk9SCRn0).

“Hey, dumbass, wait up!”

Viktor paused and turned toward the voice behind him, lowering the book from his face as he did. He glanced at his younger brother over the tops of his glasses. “Yurio. What can I do for you?”

The younger blond huffed out an angry breath. “For a start you can stop calling me by that ridiculous name. And you left this on the kitchen table.” Yuri held out a bound folder, smirking as Viktor gasped and dug through his backpack, grunting in frustration.

“I could have sworn I packed it last night,” he muttered under his breath before taking the folder from his brother. “Thank you, _kotyonok_. You saved my life.” He grinned. “Or at the very least you saved my history grade.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Yuri grumbled, jumping back in an attempt to avoid the inevitable hair ruffle his elder brother would bestow. “What the heck are you doing today that required you to be at school almost two hours early, anyway?”

Viktor tossed his head to get his bangs away from his face. “The student council president never rests, Yurio. I was due for a meeting with Ms. Okukawa, and because of soccer practice this afternoon it had to happen in the morning.” He yawned. “I wish you wouldn't remind me of how early I got up.”

“Yeah, well, Mom was a bit mad because you didn't let her know ahead of time you'd leave so early this morning and I had to hear all about it,” Yurio growled. “So you owe me for that, as well as bringing you that paper.”

“So how can I make it up to you, brother o' mine?” Viktor asked. He grinned and threw an arm around Yuri's shoulders. “I could get Mila's phone number for you!”

Yuri jumped away from the taller figure like a scalded cat. “WHAT?! No way; I don't care about that hag!”

“Hmmm, so if you don't want Mila's number maybe, oh, I don't know? A certain wrestling team captain?”

Yuri went pale for a minute before smirking and waving to someone behind the older boy. “Hey, Katsuki! How's it going?”

Viktor flushed bright red and whipped his head around fast enough to make his spine crack. There was no one behind him, and he turned back to his brother with a glare. “Touche, brat,” he said before walking off to his homeroom.

His best friend Chris was already there, scrolling through his phone with a pained look on his face. He barely reacted when Viktor dropped his bag onto the desk beside him and sank into the seat with a sigh. After about two minutes Chris grunted and locked the phone, sliding it into a pocket and turning his attention to Viktor. “So you met with Ms. Okukawa this morning, I hear,” he said with a half-smile. “How'd that go?”

Viktor shrugged. “She agreed to bring the proposal to upgrade the cafeteria salad bar to the board of education, but that's about all I got out of it.” He hid a yawn behind one hand. “She said we weren't even going to talk about the lunch period music thing since she doubted the school would willingly pay for the XM radio subscription.”

Chris looked mock-aghast. “That was one of your big campaign promises, though! You need to come through on that, Mr. President.”

“My campaign promise was that the idea would be explored,” Viktor responded with a smile. “And it was, if only for a minute.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “There's only so much the student body president can do, you know.”

“So why bother with it?” Chris asked, going back to his phone, if a little absentmindedly.

“Because it's the sort of thing that looks fabulous on college applications, of course,” was the reply.

The other boy snorted. “Like you need to look better on your applications. You're in the top five of the class, all fighting to make valedictorian, you're the captain of the soccer team, you scored over thirteen hundred on your SATs. . . Shall I go on?”

“You don't need to but I'd love to hear more flattery,” Viktor said with a wink.

The bell rang at that moment, forestalling whatever else Chris planned to say, and the pair of them quickly straightened up, model student personas firmly in place.

****~**~**~**~**~****

Viktor was never more grateful that he had P.E. before lunch than on days like today. The bump to his system from the physical activity counteracted the inevitable afternoon drowsiness, which he expected would be worse than usual today. It was, he suspected, one of the reasons why his first class immediately after lunch was his worst one. The other reason, of course, was -

“Hey, Katsuki, you left this in the locker room!”

Viktor deliberately kept his face averted from the conversation behind him but he couldn't help the way his face heated at the mention of that name. He took a deep breath, ready to turn and at least say hello, when a bag was dumped on the table beside him and someone was in the seat a moment later.

“Morning, Viktor.” A quick glance at a watch. “Well, at least it is for another ten minutes.”

He turned and looked into the brandywine eyes of Yuuri Katsuki, eyes that always seemed magnified by the glasses perched on the end of the other boy's nose. Yuuri Katsuki, with the soft, perennially messy hair, the gentle smile, and the athlete's body that just didn't quit.

Yuuri Katsuki, the object of Viktor's all-consuming, unrequited crush. A crush that had started when they were freshman at Grand Prix High School and had continued, unabated, to the present day.

But he was nothing if not well-schooled in keeping his feelings to himself (including being fairly certain the only person at the school who knew about the crush was his little brother), so he pasted on his best smile and turned to his companion. “Good morning, Yuuri! How are you today?”

Yuuri grinned. “Not at my best, I'll admit,” he replied. He pulled a large textbook out of his bag and a folder that looked almost identical to the one Viktor's brother had given him earlier. “I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you about the paper and presentation before history class this afternoon.” His grin softened into his regular smile as he passed his folder across. “Can you read it over for me?”

“Why me?” was Viktor's question, complete with skeptically raised eyebrow. “I'm pretty sure your grades in history are better than mine.”

“It never hurts to have another pair of eyes take a look at your work, you know.” He held out a hand. “I can read over yours also, if you'd like.”

Entranced by the dark haired boy's smile Viktor passed his own paper over and picked up the one that had been slid towards him. He had to admit he was curious to see Yuuri's take on their assignment.

It had all started almost as a joke. When the class hadn't been able to agree on a topic Ms. Baranovskaya had suggested “great historical disasters”, thinking her students would also reject that idea out of hand. But it had proving to be the one thing they could all agree on, and even though their teacher complained about their morbid fascination with such things she had eventually agreed. The only restriction placed on their work was that the papers had to focus more on the responses to the calamity and less on the body count.

Viktor smiled to himself as he began reading Yuuri's work, finding it interesting that they had both chosen famous earthquakes that had been accompanied by massive fires. He didn't know enough details about the 1923 earthquake in the Kanto region of Japan to judge Yuuri's facts and analysis, but he had to give his fellow student points for an engaging writing style. And because it was well-written it didn't take long to read; he finished up just a few moments before Yuuri put down his folder. “Well?” the blond asked.

Yuuri laughed and passed the folder back to its owner. “Well done,” he replied. “No stupid grammar or spelling mistakes that I could see. And I like how you write; made a – let's face it – rather depressing topic somewhat enjoyable.”

“I was just going to say the same thing about your writing.”

“So you thought it was well done?” Yuuri asked, sounding anxious. “I'm glad; I always have this problem with confidence when it comes to things like this. Knowing you thought it was worth the time makes me feel better.”

Viktor felt his face heat. “Does my opinion matter that much to you?” he questioned, hoping it came off sounding a bit like a joke and not like he was desperate for the other boy's approval. When Yuuri nodded he smiled. “Well, I'm glad I could help. But I refuse to believe that you lack confidence in anything. Yuuri Katsuki, boy's tennis phenom, regional champion, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera?”

“Yeah, well, it's that third et cetera that tends to bring me back down to Earth.” A few voices came from the other side of the cafeteria, calling his name, and Yuuri got to his feet and pushed the items back into his bag. “Thanks, Viktor.” He smiled softly. “For your time and your opinion.” And he walked away to join his friends, turning back halfway across the expansive room to give a little wave.

Viktor sat still for a long moment, convinced that if he moved his heart would leap out of his chest and chase the other boy down.

****~**~**~**~**~****

“I can't believe you were so out of it that you took a ball to the back of your head!” Yuri snickered into his plate before forking up another mouthful of vegetables. “And they had to call EMS!”

Viktor wanted to respond in an equally scathing manner but it was all he could do to keep from wincing at the volume of his brother's voice.

“Yuri, being knocked out – even if only for a minute - is never funny,” their mother scolded. She reached out and pushed Viktor's hair away from his face. “I'm just happy that you don't have a concussion after that.”

_So am I_ , Viktor thought to himself as he tried to force down another bite of his dinner. A concussion would have meant missing games and being out from school for a couple of days. And school was his main access to Yuuri, something he couldn't bear to give up, even temporarily. But even without a concussion he still had nausea and a blistering headache, so he pushed his plate away and got to his feet. “I'm just going to take my medicine and go to bed,” he announced in a soft voice, moving out of the kitchen before either his mother or brother could reply.

He was halfway to the staircase when the doorbell rang, stopping him in his tracks. He debated for a moment about just continuing to bed, but the good manners his mother had spent most of his life drilling into him won out and he went to answer the door. Hopefully whoever was there could be dealt with quickly, since the throbbing in his head was likely to make a long conversation difficult.

But the throbbing in his head was nothing compared to how his heart started to pound when he opened the door to be met with Yuuri's smiling face and warm eyes. His mouth dropped open but no words came out. “Ummm,” he finally manged to get out after staring at the visitor for a good two minutes.

Yuuri flushed a delicate shade of pink and rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, was on my way to work and thought I'd just drop by and see how you are,” he said. “The school's gossip network has been working overtime with the news of what happened this afternoon.” His smile widened. “And by gossip network I mean Chulanont and Giacometti.”

Viktor snorted a laugh. “I thought you were going to tell me that my brother had posted a video of me being loaded into the ambulance on Instagram.”

“Well. . .”

“Please tell me you're just trying to make a joke,” Viktor replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don't think I can handle anything else with my headache.”

“I may or may not be joking, because I honestly don't know. I don't use Instagram.”

“I thought you were going to bed, dumbass,” Yuri's voice came from behind. “Oh, hey, Katsuki. What's up?”

Viktor turned to his brother, trying to look stern despite the surge of nausea that hit him at that moment. “Please tell me that you didn't put a video of me and the paramedics up on Instagram,” he intoned.

“I could do that, but it'd be a lie,” Yuri responded, slapping his brother on the back. “I'll just leave you two alone, shall I?” was his final word before disappearing toward his own bedroom, his treading on the stairs deliberately loud.

“You wouldn't be looking to adopt yourself a younger brother, would you?” Viktor asked, turning back to Yuuri.

“No. Definitely not. I have more than enough to handle with my older sister.” They exchanged a grin before Yuuri's expression turned serious. “You're okay though, right?”

Viktor nodded. “No concussion, thankfully. But the headache and the nausea are not fun.”

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri said, reaching out and laying a hand on Viktor's arm. “You should probably head to bed and get some rest, then. But take this first.” He held out a lidded bowl that appeared to be half-full of some liquid. “It's one of my Mom's specialties – miso soup. She swears it's a cure for whatever ails you.”

Viktor glanced at the bowl than up at the other boy. “I'll put this in the kitchen, then I promise I'll get some rest. Thank you, Yuuri. For both the soup and for caring enough to stop by. Next time you get hit by a ball I'll return the favor.”

Yuuri laughed. “Well, a tennis ball isn't likely to do the same amount of damage as a soccer ball, but I'll hold you to it.” He stepped back out the door and turned to walk to his car. “I'll see you tomorrow!” he called out with a wave.

And Viktor, still feeling bemused from the whirlwind visit and the gift of soup, stood in the doorway until the car's taillights disappeared around the corner.

****~**~**~**~**~****

_It was a weird walk through the school and Viktor had no idea why. The sun was shining but the hallways were dark, and mist swirled around his feet with each step. The overhead lights flickered in time with his strides, and it seemed to take twice as long as normal to reach the cafeteria._

_He passed through the door and immediately caught sigh of Yuuri sitting at his regular table with his friends and other members of the boys tennis team. Viktor felt his heart start to pound and he recoiled, lurching backwards and hitting his head on the metal post that separated the two halves of the door. He could feel his heartbeat get faster, and when he looked down at his chest it was pushing against his shirt. He pressed his hands over the thumping organ, trying to contain it, but before he could even really think of a solution his heart leapt completely out of his chest and started to drift across the room towards Yuuri._

_He reached out and grabbed hold of it, feeling it bounce against his hands as they were cupped, careful to not crush the heart. But the damned thing was persistent, and before he really knew what was happening a tiny hand was gripping one of his fingers and pulling him across the room, very much against his will. He kept trying to pull it back, but his heart was surprisingly strong, and in the blink of an eye it broke free of his grip and flew to the other side of the room, landing on the tray in front of Yuuri._

_No one at the table seemed to notice, even when Viktor's heart bounced up a few times to catch a sniff of the other boy's hair. But that state of affairs was bound to end quickly, which it did when the heart started to rub against Yuuri's hand, who looked down at the odd sight with an incredulous expression on his face._

_And it was at that moment that Viktor launched himself toward the table full of tennis players, closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see their faces, and grabbed hold of his heart. There was an audible gasp in the room around him as he slid across the table, and when he opened his eyes it was to see Yuuri's immediately in his line of vision, widening. Their faces were close enough that Viktor could feel the other boy's breath against his mouth and cheeks and it would take barely a millimeter's worth of movement for them to kiss._

_Viktor pulled back a bit, stunned, and looked around. Nearly every pair of eyes in the room was on them, surprised and even a little disapproving. He glanced back at Yuuri, registering the shock on his face. His heart had a hold on one of Yuuri's hands and he tugged on it, desperate to make his escape from the stares. But the heart held on, pulling in the opposite direction, ridiculously strong against Viktor's grip. The tug-of-war went on until Viktor pulled as hard as he could, ripping his heart in half before he fled from the room. The last thing he saw was Yuuri moving out of his seat and picking up the half of Viktor's heart laying on the cafeteria floor. . ._

Viktor woke up with a jolt, sweat cooling on his face and his heart pounding. The dream had felt so real – so immediate – that he looked down at his t-shirt to see if there was a hole in it from where his heart had emerged. The fabric was intact, so with a sigh of relief he laid back down, feeling a calm wash over him again. This crush of his was really getting out of hand, but he wasn't ready to think about how to fix it.

****~**~**~**~**~****

The next morning at school was sheer agony for Viktor, still reeling from his strange dream of the night before. He spent the first half of his day locked inside his own head, not exactly sure how he managed to navigate to his classes. He got hit in the shin with a lacrosse stick during P.E. and barely noticed, only mildly surprised at the fact that he had to limp to the cafeteria for lunch.

But lunch period brought with it another unpleasant surprise, one eerily similar to the dream. He stopped dead just inside the doorway at the sight of Yuuri at his usual table, oblivious to the angry muttering behind him and to being shoved out of the way by hungry underclassmen. He gave a moment's thought to just leaving, but he needed to eat if he was going to survive the rest of the day and practice that afternoon. But he made sure to claim a seat at the table in the corner furthest away from where Yuuri was sitting, dutifully keeping his face averted as he went around the salad bar. He returned to his chair with a sigh, all but pouting into his macaroni.

“Viktor? Are you all right?”

The soft voice cut right to Viktor's heart and he looked up to see Yuuri standing beside his table, blushing slightly and shuffling his feet uncertainly. “You don't normally sit apart from everyone else, so I thought maybe you weren't feeling well after yesterday's. . . excitement.”

The smile on the other boy's face was just this side of mischievous and Viktor felt a powerful sense of resolve stealing over him. The crush he had been nursing for years was all well and good, but he'd rather have a friendship with Yuuri than nothing at all. And there was only one way to truly get that started. He got to his feet. “I'm fine, just wanted to be out of the bright lights. Still got a bit of a headache.” He took a deep breath. “Would you like to have lunch with me, Yuuri?” he asked, his blue eyes gazing directly into warm brown.

The blush on Yuuri's face intensified and he jerkily nodded. “I'd. . . I'd like that,” he replied. “Let me just get my things.” He grinned. “I'll be right back.”

Their conversation during the meal proved to be easy and entertaining; Viktor had already known that Yuuri was intelligent but he hadn't expected the slightly wicked sense of humor and the prankster side. Yuuri assured him it was a direct effect of being friends with Phichit Chulanont since sixth grade, and went on to describe one of their greatest pranks; the boys locker room debacle that had resulted in a number of football players emerging from the showers with pink hair.

“That was you?!” Viktor exclaimed. “Those Neanderthals were blaming my team!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Yuuri responded with a sly smile. “But they shouldn't have said the tennis team was full of 'a bunch of wusses who wouldn't dare mess with us' if they didn't want to be proved wrong.”

Viktor had to laugh at that. “I promise the soccer team will never say a word against you guys. We all like our hair colors as is.”

“Don't worry, you guys are safe. Phichit's already decided our next target is the Drama Club.” Yuuri's eyes rolled. “I think he has a crush on Giacometti.” He picked up the cookie on his tray and started to break it into pieces. “I told him we need to come up with something else, though. Repeating the same prank just shows a lack of creativity, and as honor students we need to be better.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever heard pranking ability equated to being honor students,” Viktor said with a chuckle. He was watching as the cookie fell apart under the other boy's ministrations, reaching out to pick up a piece that looked like a heart. It was an uncomfortable reminder of his strange dream, but he brushed it off and handed it to Yuuri. “You should keep this,” he commented, grinning. “It'd be tough to live without it.”

Yuuri looked from the cookie in Viktor's hands to the other's eyes. A flush climbed up his neck and stained his cheeks. “Keep it,” he whispered. “You have every other heart of mine, after all.”

It took a moment for that to sink in. “Yuuri?” Viktor asked, feeling his own face start to heat.

Yuuri simply nodded and reached out to twine their fingers together.


End file.
